Hana Solo Chronicles: Dawn of Hope
by Trikkster
Summary: It had always been her against the galaxy and she'd always scoffed at the outdated ideal of "The Force". But what happens when Hana Solo finds herself in a position where she can help save the galaxy from darkness and begins to realize there may be some substance to this outdated ideal? The first installment of a retelling of Star Wars 4-6 with Han as a female. SPOILERS!
1. Chapter I

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the Star Wars franchise and its characters. All that I take ownership of is Hana and her mannerisms. I seek no profit from this story. This is just a fun project. A what-if regarding if Han Solo had been a female trying to survive as a smuggler who's quick-on-the-draw. No other genders change in the story. I plan to write an altered version of Star Wars: A New Hope, Star Wars: Empire Strikes Back, and Star Wars: Return of the Jedi. This will follow the storylines of all three movies but from Hana's point of view with slight alterations. So, in case you were wondering: SPOILER ALERT!

This story is rated M for Mature.

Chapter I

The Tatooine suns beat down upon the spaceport of Mos Eisley, warming the inhabitants to a point that inspired irritation and decreased patience. Arguments could be heard amongst the docking bays of the port, between pilots who were certain another had stolen one of their tools and between smugglers and their hires over how much missions were worth. Bounty hunters lurked around every corner, seeking to make a quick profit. After all, if you were in the darkest port of Tatooine, you were bound to find someone who was on another creature's wanted list. It was just a matter of how high the reward was, and how easy the target could be taken down. It kept the targets' ears on edge, the hunters' eyes keen, and all fingers quick on the trigger. Everyone was looking for gain and trying to avoid loss, especially with thieving Jawas running about. Such an atmosphere created an endless realm of indiscernible chatter streaming around docking bay 94 and the large, clunky ship it held.

The woman leaned up on the tip toes of her heavy brown knee high combat boots, the windows and door of her large ship temporarily open to allow at least some circulation as she worked on the hyper drive. Not that the circulation helped very much, seeing as the air outside was just as dry and hot -if not more so- than the air inside. The woman's black canvas pants, as thin as could be allowed in the deep, cold recesses of space, didn't offer much relief from the intense heat as they raced up her legs, bound in the dark leather straps of the holsters holding her twin blasters, which were topped off by a belt with plenty of leather pouches holding each and every tool she could possibly need for a quick fix regarding the ship she piloted. She knew the ship like the back of her hand, and knew where any spare tools she may need were stored in the craft.

She grunted, arching up higher, pushing and shoving and popping out devices as she attempted to figure out just what was causing her latest issue. As she was stretching her taut muscular arms up higher over her head her black cargo vest, made of the same canvas from her pants, lifted up as well. The vest continued to hold more tools and spare parts she might need, and also had a hidden pouch holding some galactic credit standards she kept handy for spare parts or just a quick drink in nearby cantinas. Underneath the vest was a white long sleeve top of thinner canvas material that raced down her arms to end just above her wrists and that reached down just beneath her chest.

Beneath the lower lip of the shirt was the beginning of a large marking embedded into her skin, of a ship that for the most part was circular like a sun with a pronged top pointing up towards the woman's face. The ship was detailed with many angular lines in alternating colors of silver and black that shone against the woman's tan, toned stomach, with a long silver line making up the bottom of the mostly black lined ship. When she'd first gotten the marking, the skin had tugged a bit more than usual, seeing as the silver parts were in actuality metal scraps taken from her ship. She grunted, arching her head up more to try to see the panel she was working with better, a screwdriver/welding laser combination tool firm between her teeth, her nostrils flaring with a dark steel stud piercing the upper part of the left.

She had a long leather strip around her neck with a metal lined pendant of a star upon it, hanging just above where her breasts began. The star had many shards of glass and crystal welded together to create a multi-colored design within it. Just above it on her throat was an old white scar, a thick white band that encircled her neck perfectly, the skin stretched and contracted there due to prolonged damage to the epidermis, the nerves beneath that shot completely. She often joked that if anyone grabbed her by her throat out of anger, she wouldn't feel it anyway. That was helpful, she claimed, since the best thing she did was piss people off.

Her arms beneath the shirt were beginning to sweat straight through the material, the ends of them being donned with fingerless, brown leather gloves. Her fingers themselves sticking out of the ends had only nubs for nails, bitten down by harsh metal to the point where they were nearly nonexistent. Calluses donned the pads of the fingers as they worked skillfully over the metal plate holding the wires she had pinpointed as the problem causing her hyper drive to malfunction. She'd already unscrewed the plate but now it was a matter of jiggling it out in just the right way to get to the wires underneath. It was caught on itself, being a part of a very old ship, and with a grunt, she narrowed her dark brown eyes and jerked back quickly, determined to get it off. Without her hyper drive working properly, she was screwed. With a grating noise the plate came free, some dust from inside spilling out.

She smirked around the tool in her mouth and turned to a pocket of her belt, fumbling around inside as the sun caught on the long metallic earring she wore in her right ear, a metal spike piercing through the lobe of the other ear. The right ear was donned with a long metal chain that brushed against her shoulder, donned with multi-colored metallic shards spiraled and bent in unique and eclectic ways. Over the long earpiece hung a dark dirty mop of long brown hair, sectioned out in tendrils due to the fact that she needed to wash it that evening. After all, she figured she needed to at least twice a week on Tatooine, rather than her normal once a week quota. Past that, she felt no need. The only person she really interacted with was her co pilot, and if she smelled, he reeked! So, she let her oily, sweaty mane hang freely on the right side of her head. After all, the thicker it became with dirt and sweat, the more it acted as a curtain against any bounty hunter that might be looking to profit from catching her whenever she went into the cantina. The other side of her head wasn't quite so lucky.

The entire left side of her scalp had been removed of any follicles of hair, leaving sleek tan skin underneath just over her skull, dotted with light scars from encounters gone south. In addition to the scars, along the skin there were two sweeping black lines with dark blue outlines, curved on the inside edges and spiked on the outer ones, arching up in the direction of her spine to just beneath the peak of her skull and then curling around towards her temple. She reached up with some binding tape from her belt pouch and began to tackle the frayed wires guilty of causing her ship's latest issues, covering their frayed edges before taking her screwdriver's laser and searing off the materials, effectively melding them together, before sliding the screwdriver into her back pocket. Whipping out an electronic reader much like those found on various droid units, she pressed a button and a long thin pole shot out of one end, donned with prongs at the end of it for easy insertion into outlets on the plates below and above monitors on ships. It was a universal device, able to be easily twisted and moved about to get accurate readings. And far less expensive than having a clunky droid beeping and rolling about, which just so happened to be the thing she may have taken this little device from before modifying it to fit her needs. Needless to say, the droid was not amused.

Bending the prongs to the point where they were just the right size for the outlets on the plate below the wires she'd been working with, she slid them into place and began tapping at the buttons on the device, her forehead screwed up in concentration, pulling at the skin of her aged face. If the current was just as strong on either side of the wires then the issue should be fixed and the circuit of power complete. She bit her dirty lip as the machine beeped slowly, receiving a reading from the ship. Once a beep sounded, she turned and got a similar reading from the plate above the wires. A few moments later she smirked, the issue apparently solved. _For now,_ she thought with a crooked grin that revealed slightly chipped and bent teeth, credits just like her calluses of a rough, hard earned life-although she had to admit that her temper and wit were most likely the cause of the condition her teeth, not the processes required for maintaining her ship. Screwing the plate back on quickly, she patted the ship in that area with a firm hand, _"Try to hold yourself together a bit longer next time ol' girl. Don't make mama work too hard,"_ she whispered in a hoarse but loving voice she never used for another thing in the galaxy, using vocal cords that had been strained beyond help to the point of perpetual hoarseness. Others had commented that it made her sound far too old for her age, and that it also sometimes made it hard to make out what she was saying. But up to that point her ship hadn't complained about her voice, so the opinions of others bothered her little. Her ship was her ultimate partner, and the only thing she'd ever give such weight to.

It was her livelihood, allowing her to smuggle shipments to various parts of the galaxy at top speeds. She had made various modifications to the original design, thus making the ship her own. After all, the faster it went, the more money she made, and the easier life she lived. It was her lifelong friend and they'd been in more than one tight situation, but always had ended up coming out the other side. Walking towards the open door, she put both hands up above the door hatch, patting the hard metal of the ship and leaning out slightly into the Tatooine heat, gazing about docking bay 94, the suns hitting the metal on her stomach and making it gleam. Most captains left their ship to rest at other areas of space ports such as this, to take a break. But she preferred the docking bay, staying close to the ship that was more like her child than her tool.

Various hallways crisscrossed around the bay and she saw captains and creatures walking about within them, heading to missions to who knew where. She frowned as she watched them all, feeling irritation that they had so many places to go so often. It wasn't like she didn't have places to go on occasion and clients to serve, but she knew she'd be far better off if she had half as many missions as they did. Being a female smuggler, she could have the fastest ship in the whole fucking galaxy and it still wouldn't matter to some people-although she would argue that whenever she was in tight spots she had two rather noticeable assets that male pilots failed to have that could offer a simple, quick distraction to most officers. The sexual discrimination was a constant irritant to her, and kept her hot-blooded most of the time. That's why her copilot went fishing around in the cantinas, not her. He may be able to rip arms off better than her-in fact he could do it quite easily in under a minute-but he was a big softie really, all roar, and would never imagine hurting anyone without proper cause. He created a sharp contrast to her own fiery temper, and she'd never seen him purposely hurt anything unless it was in self defense.

In light of the ironic differences between the two of them, he therefore went fishing about while she waited patiently-or sometimes rather impatiently if she was honest with herself-at the ship. She bit the inside of her dusty right cheek. He should have been back by now . . . hopefully with some news of clients needing her services. If he didn't make it back with news soon, she'd be more willing to contact him, accept that the well of Mos Eisley was figuratively dry of any prospective clients, and drag him back to her ship to take off. Her nature forged from a trying past made her restless, never wanting to stay in the same place for too long if she could help it. And the overarching watchfulness, ever-growing, of the Empire didn't help ease her tension. She'd been here for a little over a week now, and that was too long for her liking. At that moment, a large, furry, burly alien of blue color and beady black eyes paused and pointed at her as he was making his way down a hallway.

"What's wrong little girl, need some help with your big bad ship?" he taunted. She rolled her eyes in response. The other male captains were always giving her grief and acting like she wasn't tough enough to handle them. That's how it'd always been: her against the galaxy. And that was how she liked it. If she was against everyone, then that narrowed down her allies in the simplest of ways: she need only be concerned with herself. She fought for herself, defended herself, worked for herself. And when necessary, ran away for herself. She had no personal strings tying her down, none of that honor shit to weigh on her mind. Her goal was always the same: looking out for number one. Nothing more, nothing less.

"MAYBE IF I NEED HELP CRASHING DEAD INTO A MOON! ISN'T THAT HOW YOUR LAST SHIP ENDED GROOP?!" she hollered back, narrowing her eyes at him threateningly while her mouth quirked itself into a mocking smirk, "STRAIGHT OUT OF HYPERSPACE AND INTO ROCK. I WONDER WHAT YOUR HIRE SAID ABOUT THAT WONDERFUL CALCULATION?!" He growled and turned to face her head on, shaking a furry fist at her and hurling insults in various languages. She sneered as he broke for a deep breath. "SURE YOU WANT TO SAY THOSE THINGS TO ME?! WHAT ABOUT WITH THE LIGHT OF MY BLASTER'S ARTILLERY EXPLODING ACROSS YOUR FACE?!" she shouted with a snarl added to her tone. He paused as her left hand slid down her side, tapping the grip on her strapped in blaster, knowing that even with the yards between them, she'd hit square on. Grunting, flinging his hands at her in a way that meant she wasn't worth the trouble, he turned to the direction of hallway he'd been headed to and walked off, mumbling obscenities.

She sneered, nostrils flaring a moment more in his direction, her adrenaline racing even after just that exchange. Once she was sure he wasn't going to head back for a second round of yelling, she was about to turn back to the inside of her ship, to prepare for take off. He had been the final confirmation that she was done with this place . . . at that moment, another pair of creatures caught her eye, forcing her to turn her head and blink at them. Two Rodians, one clearly an adult male while the other was a young child of indiscernible gender from her distance, walked down the hallway in the opposite direction that Groop had just gone, apparently oblivious to the heated exchange which had just taken place. The male had a bulging brown leather satchel, faded, worn, and stained over time, slung over his side. As he walked, the smaller of the two hurried behind him, carrying large bulkier items. As the man walked, she couldn't decide if he was a pilot or a mechanic hired by some of the more foolish and trusting captains to work on their ships. Not that she didn't think he couldn't be honest and trustworthy. She'd just learned never to trust anyone with anything of importance to her, and certainly never with her beloved ship. That was why she never let anyone tamper with her ship but her and her own copilot. As the older of the two turned and talked to the younger, she blinked and watched as the younger's ears perked up as it seemed to gaze at the older male in an adoring fashion, as if it was hanging on every word. She sighed, her chest heaving as it took her back into her memories. . .

 _The dark haired man leaned back with a large smile in the small cockpit of his ship. It was a simple, small, old ship, only capable of smaller smuggling operations, and not nearly fast enough on its best day to outrun many Imperial starships. "We should be at the rebel base in less than an hour," he turned to the small brunette child sitting in the far too big copilot chair. She turned her brown eyes to him, adoring the man in spite of the dumpy condition of their ship, a gleaming glass pendant of a star hanging heavy around her neck. It had been a token her mother had often worn, and so she never took it off. When her father had given it to her, she'd been filled with joy. Ever since her mother had died when the girl was two, caught in the crossfire of a cantina dispute, the man had become the child's entire world. Shortly after the incident, he had moved fully into the small ship he owned, bringing her along with him. She helped him with everything-inventory, maintenance, piloting, navigating- or rather, almost everything. The only thing he never let her do was aim the guns of the ship, but that was something he rarely did himself._

 _She adored her father, but there was just one thing she didn't understand, "Dad, why do we do this?" He frowned, "Do what?" "Smuggle supplies to the Rebels? Isn't it dangerous going against the Empire?" she asked. It never made sense to her. Her father was an overly cautious person. Why would he do things that were so dangerous? He smiled weakly, "The answer's simple, my little navigator. . ." he reached out and put a firm hand on her hair, which was braided back in a messy brown rope down her back, and wiggled her head back and forth playfully, "It's the right thing to do by the Force." She frowned, him having never mentioned such a thing. Then again, she'd never before questioned his judgment regarding the shipments. She was only six after all. But they'd had to get through quite a few tight financial spots lately, he'd said, and so she had to wonder why he'd risk so much for the Rebels, who clearly didn't pay him enough for his trouble. She supposed other children didn't worry as much about such things, but her life revolved around what they did, so it was often on her mind._

" _The 'Force'?" she repeated. He smiled calmly, "Yes. It's the essence behind everything and around everything in the universe. It's the balance of good and evil, and right now the Imperials are upsetting that balance, according to the Rebels. And I believe them. Darkness spreads out from the Imperials wherever they go, so the Empire can't be good for overall harmony. So, I try to help the Rebels bring balance back to good and evil. Hoping one day it'll all be right again." "But what if you never bring that balance back? What if it's never right again? What difference can we make in all of this?" she asked. It truly all seemed far too vast an idea for them to make much difference. He shrugged, shooting a crooked grin at her, "We may never bring balance and it may never be right again. Heck, my sweet, we may never make a big difference at all. But we will be rewarded. The Force ALWAYS rewards those who do good for others. Somehow."_

 _She nodded, smiling at him, believing him with all her heart. After all, her dad had never hurt anyone on purpose and he'd made it through life. He had to be right about this 'Force' thing. At that he smiled even wider back, and he turned to the large windows facing Space before him, and froze, the color draining from his face. Frowning, she turned to look at what had caught his eye. And stared, at the ship approaching them far too fast to be a good thing for them, a crude emblem for the Empire smeared across on its front panels. "They must have come up to us when I wasn't paying attention," he muttered, worry in his tone. Tapping at a screen, he grit his teeth and bit his lip, "They're behind us too. . ." he whispered, more to himself than to her. Turning to her, as if noticing her for the first time, he whispered a hoarse, fearful voice, ". Go hide under something. In a storage closet . . . anything. Be quiet. " She frowned, "What's going. . ." How could he be so unsure if he'd just told her about believing in the Force? Wouldn't it see them through? "GO!" he gasped, terror entering his voice, staring at her with wide, panicked eyes._

 _It filled her with fear and panic and getting up, the girl rushed away and out of the cockpit, tripping over things in her haste to get to a hiding spot. Finding a small closet that would normally be used for smaller cargo, she pushed inside and closed the door, listening as their ship slowed and powered down as the other ships latched onto it. A moment later, she heard doors opening, people shouting, and heavy boots marching just outside the door. Pushing her hands up to her mouth, she breathed hard against them, moving to crouch down near the floor between two storage containers, staring with fearful eyes at the darkness before her. Surely the Force wouldn't let them down. It couldn't, could it?_

A Wookie call broke the woman out of her memories like a slap to the face. She jumped slightly and blinked, focusing on the Wookie at the foot of the ship door's ramp. The creature gazed up with bright blue eyes peaking out from his brown and black furry face, nostrils twitching, wearing nothing but an artillery belt and a holster holding his bow caster. Given the fur covering his body, he didn't need anything more in the chill of space travel. She cracked a weak smile at him, _"Finally found someone, ya damn fuzz ball?"_ He nodded, giving a soft, grated cry of affirmation. " _Good_ ," she muttered, and hitting a button near the door mechanism, she began to let up the door, walking down the ramp as it slowly rose up and back into the ship, " _I was beginning to wonder what the hell I had ya for. . ."_ The Wookie made a disgruntled sound, beating his chest in an offended way. She smirked at him, hopping off to land firmly in the dirt beside the beast that towered over her by at least 3 feet, knowing that he didn't take her insults seriously. They were affectionate jabs at the beast that stood three heads above her with muscles that could tear her apart. She chuckled and shoved his arm, the large burly thing moving gently against her, _"Yeah, yeah, I know you think you're the best damn copilot in this whole forsaken galaxy. Don't be so full of yourself,"_ she grinned, speaking in a tone hinted with amusement. The Wookie gave his best grin and one firm hand rested on the middle of her head, wiggling it as he crooned at her. It was his way of showing affection right back without hugging her. He could always sense when a full hug was unwanted, and tried to abide by that rule as much as possible. She admired his restraint: the damn thing was so clingy all he ever wanted to do was grab someone in his bone crushing arms.

She smirked, shoving his arm off and turning as the two began to walk to the hallway nearby, _"Yeah, yeah, I'm really happy to see you too. Alright, let's see what guys you have hooked on the line. Any names or facts I need to know about before meeting them?"_ she remarked, ready to head on to the cantina. The sooner she met these clients, the sooner they'd be in the air . . . hopefully. Suddenly he gripped her shoulder, and she frowned, turning to face him to find him nodding towards her left breast. Tilting her head down, she sighed, closing her eyes momentarily before frowning at what had caught her co pilot's attention. Two more symbols were showing from under her shirt where it'd moved away due to the movement of her arms. They were her least favorites on her entire body.

One symbol, closer to the center of her chest, was of the color pitch black, and was an overlay of universal symbols for hand and mouth, outlined with angular edges that caused it to form a warped pyramid. Beside it, in deep red, was an overlay of universal symbols of change and beneath. Those formed more of a circle due to having curved edges. She hated those symbols, and was grateful he'd pointed out that they were showing before they'd headed into the cantina. _"Thanks,"_ she whispered hoarsely, tugging the shirt's upper lip up higher and then shrugging her vest tighter around shoulders to help hide the symbols that were destined in design and location to not be easily hidden. They were meant to stand out, and that was the last thing she'd ever want. Once she was content they were as well hidden as possible, she turned to him, _"Let's go. And tell me about our new client."_ Pushing past him, she marched from the docking bay, the creature following dutifully behind, grunting and crooning things to her as she bobbed her head, listening to him intently.

She paused upon entering the Cantina, holding up a hand to stop the Wookie's monologue, glancing at a group of Imperial Storm Troopers near the doorway conversing with various bar patrons. Just the sight of the bastards sent a feeling of nervousness into her gut and set her entire body on edge. She'd need to be a bit more at ease to discuss any mission. She turned to the Wookie beside her, and patted his shoulder, _"Go find the new clients. I'll get something to drink and join you. Get a corner table. Somewhere dark in here. I want to avoid those ivory clad fuckers as much as possible,"_ she muttered, hoping that a little drink would calm her nerves. The Wookie grunted with a shrug, nodding before turning and making his way through the crowd. She had no doubt she'd be able to find him quite easily, even in the darker parts of the cantina.

Turning, she walked up to the bar, leaning over and tapping the bar keeper who grunted and began to turn, ready to take her order. _"Hey,"_ a nearby alien slurred, pushing past her. She frowned hard at the creature, its two buggy starry eyes bulging in its head as it ordered some cocktail she'd never heard of before. As the barkeeper began to turn to fix the creature a drink, she began to glower at being overlooked, the nervousness in her stomach turning to raw fury. Such a conversion was often made when it came to her temper. Leaning over, she shoved the offensive alien hard to the side, making the alien growl and face her. _"Do you mind_?" she snarled, eyes vicious and narrowed at him. If she were capable of such a thing, she was certain she'd be spitting fire. The creature growled at her and shoved her hard back, apparently nonplussed by her anger. She slammed into a large alien on her other side, which growled, whipped around, and was about to shove her back until it received a cutting look from her and noticed the hand that was instinctively moving to her blaster on that side, _"You were saying?"_ the woman hissed, her eyes daring the burlier alien to follow through with his rage.

The alien turned around, believing it to be in his best interest to let her be, and she turned to the other alien that was chattering angrily at her, _"So, don't like me shoving you back, huh, you insolent shit stain?"_ whipping her blaster around, her finger already on the trigger, she pointed it at him, slamming it onto the bar surface, _"How you like it now? If not, maybe I could make you a brand new stain across the floor of this hellhole? Red? Black? Brown? What color is inside you, anyway?"_ she snarled, her voice going a tone darker and deeper, forming a growl. The alien noticeably got flustered and backed away, leaving the bar. She turned as the bartender slowly put the cocktail down and slid it forward, glancing at her nervously. The liquid inside looked like piss, but then most of the drinks in this bar did. That didn't mean they tasted like it though. Smirking, she grabbed it, _"Put this on his tab. For all the trouble he caused me."_ Tilting the dark grey cup back, she closed her eyes, taking a sip and letting the liquid race down her throat. Bringing it back down, she winced slightly at the acidity of it, licking her slightly burning lips as she gazed at the murky liquid. Not her choice, but it was free, and laced with liquor that would help dull her nerves before meeting the prospective clients. It would do. Turning, she marched off, sliding the blaster back into its holster.

She found herself growling as she passed the Modal Node band, which seemed to play even more annoyingly loud in her ear upon her passing them, the alien creature nearest her leaning forward and tilting his head expectantly to the open helmet on the floor holding a small batch of galactic credits. She snarled in response in a way that made him lean back slightly due to wariness, _"Me, give you money? For fucking up my ear drums? Fat chance,"_ turning the cup over the helmet, having drunk a good bit more of the liquid prior to passing the band, she poured most of the remnants into the helmet and onto the floor around it as she continued past. Hearing disgruntled sounds behind her, she smirked, chuckling, and brought the cup back to her lips, taking a sip as she neared the table where her Wookie copilot sat studying an older white haired man in a brown robe and a sandy haired boy in a khaki tunic and brown pants.

 _Ok, enough messing around. Time for business,_ she thought, and straightened her back, walking around the small table, sliding the glass onto the table as she sat down, leaning with her back towards the Wookie, blinking at the people before her. No matter how pissed off she may be, she knew all too well that without clients her livelihood was completely shot. And she was in even a tighter spot for money than normal at that moment. She had to take on these clients, regardless of how deplorable she found them. That meant studying them and trying her best not to piss them off. Admittedly, the latter of the two was easier said than done. . . She let her brown eyes play on the older man, who the Wookie had informed her was Obi-Wan "Ben" Kenobi.

The man looked far too old and weathered to survive much space travel in her opinion, but for the right price, if he wanted her to take him across the galaxy just so he could die, she would. The boy on the other hand, who the Wookie had not provided the name of, looked like a kid green and fresh out of the family home. His hands held some calluses, but it was clear he'd led a sheltered life, with his reddened smooth cheeks, innocent eyes tainted with only a bit of distrust, and overall boyish features. Not to mention he didn't have any real scars as far as she could see. It made her lip want to curl back in disgust. She was certain she'd seen ten times as many hardships by the time she was his age. But let him go through the galaxy with her. Let him grow up a little. If he wasn't ready for the hardships, that was no skin off her nose. She'd been wanting clients, and here they were. And even if they were so ancient it made her snicker or so young it made her want to roll her eyes, they were about to pay her for taking them across the galaxy, and boy was she about to make them pay up.

She smiled and tilted her head, eyes playing dangerously in the light of the Cantina, and tugged at the front of her vest, turning to face them head on, " _I'm Han Solo, I captain the Millennium Falcon."_ she slowly tilted her head towards the Wookie who turned his head slightly, blinking at her as he rested a furry hand on her thigh, not in an overly affectionate way but more of a way aimed at keeping her steady and even tempered during the future exchange. With that having been done, the Wookie turned to glance at the two males before them, ever protective over his captain. He was going to be the silent onlooker, ready to cut in if things went south but was otherwise happy to let her do the rest of the talking. She tilted her head the other way, blinking at the two men, glancing at the Storm Troopers in the cantina and making sure they weren't about to get close enough to eavesdrop. She hated those goddamn Imperial boy scouts. Turning back to them, she shrugged her shoulders before continuing, " _Chewie here Tells me you're looking for passage to the Alderaan system."_

 **Author's Note:** So what'd you think? Did you like Hana or were you disenchanted with this new version of Han Solo? Are you eager to read more about her journey? Please review to tell me what you think! No flames please.


	2. Chapter II

**Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN STAR WARS OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS. I DO NOT SEEK TO PROFIT FROM THIS STORY.**

Chapter II

Upon introducing herself she jerked her head back, squinting her eyes shut and downing the last of what was in the cup in order to cool the rage that sprang up within her each time she introduced herself to potential clients. Every fiber of her being wanted to introduce herself by her true name, "Hana". After all, a part of her reasoned, it was only one more letter than "Han". Why would it matter? How much did it really affect her business? Apparently, a lot. It seemed that using the female version of her name only accentuated further the fact that she was a female smuggler, and could break a potential deal with clients who might hold prejudice against females. And while she did want to uphold her values, such as the idea that it didn't matter what kind of gender she was so long as she got the job done, she did need clients' galactic credits to continue living as independently as she currently was. So she forced herself to swallow her pride along with the drink and just introduce herself as "Han". Her physical features would indicate she was a female. She didn't need her name to emphasize her least desirable feature to clients.

Noticing that the younger of the two had to dart his eyes up quickly from her chest after lingering there while she leaned back, she smirked a bit at that, chuckling gently as his guilty blue eyes met her knowing brown. Ok, so sometimes her female attributes could be a bit entertaining, especially when a backwoods boy like this was seeing her for the first time. The boy probably had never seen a woman quite as eccentric as her back home, so she imagined she must be quite a sight to his naïve eyes. He knew nothing of the galaxy beyond Tatooine, but if he was heading to the Alderaan System, he was about to be in for a crash course. Space travel had a way of hardening people, of forcing them to realize the hard truths of the worlds beyond their own. A part of her pitied the shattering of the boy's remaining innocence. He seemed a bit off, but his eyes still held hope. That same part of her that pitied him wished he wouldn't be a part of this potential voyage. But she wouldn't make money keeping people where they currently were. Profit would only come from taking them to wherever in the hell that was the universe they wanted to go.

As she heaved a sigh at that thought and took another sip of her drink, Ben Kenobi cleared his throat, and her dark eyes darted from the boy to the older man. Leaning back in her chair, she rested her two hands on the table, and rapped her fingers against the top of it, arching an eyebrow in a way that indicated for him to continue, to either confirm Chewie's claim regarding their need for her services or reject her services. . . or-she realized with a sad acceptance-both. Understanding that as his cue, the man leaned forward. The movement caused his blonde associate's eyes to dart to him and away from Hana. "Yes, to the Alderaan System. If it's a fast ship?" Ben murmured gently.

Hana's gaze darkened and she tilted her head to the side, frowning at him with irritated eyes, _" 'If it's a fast ship?' You have the GALL to ask me that? You've never heard of the Millennium Falcon?"_ Ben frowned, arching an eyebrow, and shook his head with a shrug of his shoulders, "Should I have?" he asked in a way that clearly portrayed that he'd truly never heard of her ship. She rolled her eyes. She wasn't naïve enough to believe that everyone in the galaxy would know of her ship, but given the fact that the Falcon was so close to her heart, anyone who said they'd never heard of it did strike a harsh nerve. It caused an illogical stem of anger to form within her, and that blossomed into a plume of fire within her. She sought to quench it, and turned to the cup, to find the liquid inside gone. She grunted and sat the cup back down firmly, holding it to the point where her knuckles were white. _Damn it,_ she thought, _Do they keep making these damn cups smaller?!_ Suddenly Chewie squeezed her leg, and she darted her eyes over to him as he gave a nod to her waist.

Glancing down she realized that in her hand on that side had been inches from her blaster's holster without her even realizing it before Chewie's observation. She sighed and closed her eyes momentarily, breathing hard and sucking in the dry, stale air around her. This was why she had Chewie with her during all meetings with clients. He'd help her remain calm even when her mind and body wanted to fight. She let herself pause for a moment, regained focus, sucked in a deep breath, and crossed her arms before her on the table to keep them away from her sides. Leaning forward, smiling calmly at the old man, she slurred as if she hadn't just been seconds from shooting, _"She made the Kessel Run in less than TWELVE PARSECS."_ It was a fact regarding the Falcon that she was quite proud of. After all, anyone who knew anything about flying should know what a feat that was for a freighter ship. That was why she said it. If she could see a show of respect from the man, then that could do wonders for her disposition and therefore could help her in the following conversation. Apparently the man new nothing of flying, however, and only showed mild fascination and a slight lift of the eyebrows. She grit her teeth, her knuckles popping slightly as she clenched her fists further, and her anger was about to flare once more when the younger boy suddenly caught her eye.

His own eyebrows had raised higher than the old man's, his eyes lit up in recognition of such a feat. It made her internally preen with pride, and helped squash her irritation. But she needed more to soothe her temper. She wanted to see more of a reaction, more admiration for the ship she worked so hard on, and she turned her attention to the boy instead, leaning forward as if sharing a secret, glancing at some storm troopers nearby questioning patrons of the bar. Perhaps it really did need to be whispered in that case, due to what she was about to say. She didn't want trouble from those scum, _"I've outrun IMPERIAL STARSHIPS. Not the local bulk cruisers, mind you. I'm talking about the BIG CORELLIAN ships."_ As the boy's face lit up even more, she smirked, her pride satisfied as best it could be at the moment, and leaned back, turning her head to Ben again, winking, " _Trust me, it's fast enough for you old man."_ The man nodded with a calm smile upon his face, "I'm sure."

At that Hana smiled but then frowned, glancing as the storm troopers walked by to go to another part of the cantina, to where some angry aliens were pointing and shouting unintelligibly. One appeared to be losing an arm. She blinked with a frown down at the empty cup, moving it around between her pointer finger and thumb as she mentally prepared for her next move. These negotiations could get tricky later on, and she had to word things just right. Clients unfortunately didn't come along every day for her, so when she had some, she had to milk them for all they had, and that often meant using twisted words to hide what she was doing. It wasn't necessarily a mask she liked wearing, but it was necessary for her nonetheless.

After waiting a moment to allow the old man to back out gracefully with a classic "but" statement with no such thing occurring, she smiled slightly at the empty cup, feeling assured that he was definitely interested and not deterred as of yet from her services. She leaned back, ready to get to other details of smuggling, and blinked at him, _"So, what's the cargo, and how much of it is there?"_ "No cargo," the old man shook his head in the same calm manner he handled everything. She frowned, blinking before forming a straight face once more. She relied on reading clients' reactions in order to know how to proceed to gain the most from a venture, and when a client remained as calm as he did about everything it made calculating her next move difficult. But not entirely impossible.

The man answered, "No cargo, only passengers. Me, the boy, and two droids." She grit her teeth at that. Not much cargo often meant not much pay. It was then as he leaned forward and tilted his head down, locking onto her with a studious look and added, "And _no questions asked,"_ that her hope in getting money off the man was blinked, tilting her head to the side as she frowned at him, the wheels in her mind spinning like turbines on her ship. They just needed more fuel to continue heading towards her ultimate goal, and she leaned forward, fishing for such fuel as she muttered, _"What is it, some kind of local trouble?"_

Her mind automatically went to Jabba the Hutt. The mobster was more dangerous than he initially looked, and many people owed the loan shark something. He had numerous bounty hunters who would surround him, hoping that he would put a bounty on someone. That made him all the more dangerous. With so many bounty hunters, his reach extended too far for comfort. He could really be a problem if not handled correctly. Normally whenever a potential client had trouble with Jabba, she steered clear of the situation. She had her own issues with Jabba, and would like to not add another to the list. Still, she really was in a tight spot financially, and may be willing to risk it, if the price was right. He smiled and tilted his head, glancing at the storm troopers who remained in the Cantina as un-welcomed visitors who had long stayed their welcome. It made the entire atmosphere all the more tense. Ben moved his gaze back to Hana, "Let's just say we'd like to avoid any _Imperial Entanglements."_ She glanced at the storm troopers then back at him. And let out the deep breath she'd been holding. Well, not Jabba, but they could prove even more dangerous, especially if that bastard Vader was involved. Legends of his dark abilities were whispered throughout the galaxy and she didn't really want to see which of those legends were true. But still, while that did have big risk with it, it could lead to big gain as well.

She glanced at the boy who was frowning at her now, then back at Ben. She took one more moment to decide what she was about to do, then smirked, leaning back, moving one foot up, the one connected to the leg Chewie's hand had been on, and rested it on the opposite knee, gripping the dusty toe of it with her leather clad hands, _"Well, who wouldn't want to avoid them?"_ she began with a shrug, letting a joking smile cross her face, _"I myself have a few tricks of my own than can help in that matter, but those'll cost ya extra."_ Ben frowned, tilting his head, as if trying to realize if what she'd said was a bluff or the truth, "And how much would it be, total?"

She smiled at him, eyes glittering with confidence, _"10,000, all in advance."_ The boy leaned forward, eyes now wide with disbelief rather than amazement, " '10,000'? We could buy our own ship for that!" She frowned, eyes darting from the old man to his younger companion, _"Oh, and who's going to pilot that ship kid?"_ she tilted her head down, raising eyebrows at him as her lips quirked higher in amusement, climbing up her cheeks, _"You?"_ The thought of the farm boy trying to evade starships as well as she could was laughable, if not a little insulting.

The kid glared at her, offended, and patted his chest, "You bet I could! I'm not such a bad pilot myself!" he shot up, glaring down at her before turning to Ben, "Come on, we don't have to listen to thi-" The old man frowned and rested a hand firmly on the boy's arm, gripping it to keep him there and shook his head in a way that advised the boy to be quiet. He didn't want to upset the captain before them. For all he knew, she may be the only one who would accept their journey. Besides, Ben could sense that there was more to Han Solo than what met the eye. There was a faint amount of the Force surrounding the girl, even if she didn't notice it. She had great things in her future, and would do things that could benefit the entire universe. He wanted this deal to go well. And that decidedly meant not upsetting the female captain further.

But it was too late to try to keep Hana calm. By now Hana had risen up, sneering at the boy, _" 'I'm not such a bad pilot myself!' Ha! Even if you could fly a ship, it takes more than that to get a mission completed, SON. What about those 'imperial entanglements' your old friend Ben spoke of? How good are you at avoiding lasers in mid air?"_ she let a dark smirk cross her face, _"It's hard piloting when half of your thrusters are blown straight to hell."_ The boy glared at her and stood straighter, so that he looked down on her slightly shorter 5' 4" frame. "I've dodged lasers before," he remarked, insult hinting all his words. She chuckled, rolling her eyes, and tilted her head one way as she swung her hips slightly the other, her hands firmly on her waist, gripping her skin there firmly, _"Oh, from some Jawas or Sand People here on this dust ball of a planet? That's HARDLY an irritation compared to Tie fighters kid. Trust me, you have NO IDEA what you're talking about going up against. You'd be dead in an instant. The thought of you trying to make it to Alderaan alive is laughable at best."_ He fumed, nostrils flaring, glaring at her.

Meanwhile Ben was blinking, as if trying to figure out the next move. Hana growled slightly, eyes full of fire as she glowered up at the boy. The boy wasn't ready to back down, and that was enough to determine her next move. The two could try to deal with the Imperials on their own. She wasn't about to be insulted by being compared to a kid who didn't have nearly as much experience as her. She spat on his shirt and frowned, tilting her head back, crossing her arms and squaring her shoulders, glancing at the old man, _"Well, if you two are so confident in your own abilities, perhaps you don't need me after all. Have fun killing yourselves."_ Jerking her head to Chewie, her dirty hair swatting the boy in the face as she did so to her great pleasure, she jerked her head towards the nearest door out of the place as she swung her hair the other way, smacking him again, _"Let's go. We're done here."_ The Wookie grunted, and even though he knew her temper was outshining her logic in this situation, rose to follow her. He'd never besmirch her judgment, even if he didn't understand it. They were about a foot from the table when Ben spoke, "We can pay you 2,000 now, plus 15,000 more. . . once we reach Alderaan."

Hana perked her head up slightly at that. And slowly turned, a spark of interest flitting across her brown eyes, _" '17,000'?"_ Well, with that price, maybe she could work with these people after all. Hell, if they kept their dumbass mouths shut, it could be a rather enjoyable voyage. She smirked slightly at the thought. She glanced towards the lingering storm troopers, just as two bar patrons of differing species swept up and away from the bar nearby, gripping each other tightly and swinging and hissing, blocking their view of the troopers and by doing so, blocking the troopers' view of them. Such actions were common in the cantina and now, they provided a sufficient distraction to block the line of sight of the troopers. It would perhaps make it easier to force old Ben into a deal he may reject otherwise, so long as he knew that the fight could disperse as quickly as it started and if he wanted to avoid imperial intervention, he was pressed for time as far as bartering was concerned.. The old man smiled and nodded at her, confirming the proposed amount, trusting and knowledgeable eyes focused on her. In spite of his hotheaded partner, the man knew how much they needed her, as opposed to the possibility of trying to pilot their own ship while attempting to avoid the Empire. She turned fully to the pair and folded her arms, swinging her hip to the other side, cocking her head. And was about to push his sudden generosity as much as possible, with as much time as she had before the imperials made their way towards them, _"5,000 in advance, 12,000 when we reach Alderaan."_

The old man let a brief smile of relief cross his face before he leaned forward, deepening his voice an octave. She frowned slightly as she felt as though some invisible hand was trying to reach out to her. Or maybe it was just the alcohol playing with her mind. Regardless she screwed up her forehead in concentration and mentally pushed right back against the feeling. She didn't like anything trying to attack her judgment. She frowned harder at him as he replied to her, "3,000 in advance, 14,000 at Alderaan."

She narrowed her eyes slightly at his attempt to barter with her. _"4,000 in advance . . ."_ she slurred, planting her feet further apart and squaring her shoulders, giving him a harder look as she focused head on at him, glancing at the fight that was already dissipating. The storm troopers would get a good look soon, _"And 16,000 when we reach Alderaan, just because you two have really pissed me off. Take it or leave it old man, that's my final offer."_ Even in the clatter of the cantina, a silence seemed to hang in the air between them. Ben glanced at the storm troopers, one glancing towards them now that the bar dispute wasn't quite blocking their view.

Hana glanced too, and knew that she'd backed the other two sufficiently into a corner. She had the old man and boy right where she wanted them. Alderaan, and 20,000 Galactic Credits, here she'd come! She smirked and held out her hand, _"Do we have a deal, Ben?"_ Ben sighed, then smiled, and gripped her hand in spite of the boy gaping at them both, "Yes, we have a deal, Captain Solo." Hana smirked and nodded, _"Good. You've got yourself a ship.. We'll leave as soon as you're ready. Docking Bay 94."_ Ben nodded, blinking at her, "94."

She nodded in confirmation that he got the number right, then jerked her head to a small hallway set into the wall nearby, currently hid behind both Chewie and another group of aliens getting rowdy over some game of bets. It would make for an easy getaway for the pair of clients. _"Chewie can get you out of here,"_ she murmured. Ben turned to the boy, catching on to her idea, "Come then, Luke." She smirked and watched with just her eyes as the two walked off, "Luke" following and glancing at her with a dark look, fed up that they'd ended up paying so much. _Yeah, Junior, you best believe I jacked that price up. Just because of your mouth. Learn to close that little bitch._ Once they left, she bowed her head slightly and walked forward, putting her hands on the table beside her abandoned glass, and tapped her fingers twice, Chewie moving to stand beside her momentarily to hear further orders rather than continue following the two males, glancing at the storm troopers marching up. She watched them through her thick veil of hair as they paused, looked at the captain and her copilot, then walked on. And fought to keep her anger down at the disregard they gave her. She tried to remind herself that that was a good thing.

Once they were out of ear shot, she let a smirk cross her face, her eyes lit with excitement. Turning, she grinned at Chewie, holding up her hands in excitement, rubbing her fingers together _"20,000, wow these guys really are desperate!"_ Chewie grinned at her, relieved that the meeting had gone as well as it had, and grunted, nodding, as she patted his chest, smirking up at him with eagerness in her face _, "This could really save my neck_ ," she patted her own chest, jumping slightly on the balls of her feet, then patted his shoulder roughly as her face became hardened once more, _"Now go to the Falcon, get her ready. I'll join you shortly."_ He nodded, crooning, and putting a hand up, wiggled her hair, grinning at her before turning and walking off. She smirked after him, _"You really earned your keep this time, pal."_ She turned back to head to the bar for another drink and froze, blinking at the green Rodian that had slinked up just as Chewie'd left. Figured he'd only approach her without her "bodyguard" of a copilot.

She rolled her eyes, as he held his blaster and pressed the tip of the barrel shaft to the spot just between her breasts, " _Going somewhere, Solo?"_ With that he attempted to back her up, pressing in on her chest. She growled and pressed right back, narrowing her eyes at him in irritation, _"Why yes, Greedo, as a matter of fact I was just going to see your boss. . ."_ glancing at the bar keep who was facing their way, she waved to get his attention and held up her pointer finger, nodding. He nodded and set about making a drink like the other one she'd already tasted. She turned to Greedo and pushed his blaster tip away from her chest, brushing past him to grab the drink, _"Luckily, you happened to stumble along, so you get to deliver my message. . .one of the only things you're good for. . ."_ snatching up the drink the bartender slid her way, she turned to the green alien, holding the glass inches from her lips, ready to take a sip. Before she did so, she pointed at him, leaning against the bar, _"Tell Jabba I'll have the money for him soon enough. As soon as I get back from this next job."_ Closing her eyes, she dunked her head back, taking a sip of the drink and walking towards the exit of the cantina.

Greedo grunted and rushed to be in front of her, and she snarled, some of the drink sloshing about in its cup as she stopped abruptly. She snarled and glowered at the other creature, _"You just about had this drink down my fucking front, snotbrain. You do that again and I'll send you to Jabba with the money. One pathetic piece of moldy shit at a time."_ Greedo snickered, " _Then he'll send someone else, with perhaps an even higher price on your head. No matter how much money you may send, it will all be too late. You should have paid him when you had the chance,"_ Greedo said, switching off the safety on his blaster and jerking it to a seat at the cantina table she'd been sitting at just moments before with Ben and Luke. Hana rolled her eyes and walked over, slumping right back into the same seat she'd been in before, drinking another gulp of alcohol and leaning back, putting the same foot on the same bent knee and setting the cup on the table, gripped her foot with her left hand. She'd put up with Greedo, for now. . . she glanced at the storm troopers still walking about the room. She didn't really want to cause that huge a scene with those bastards still there. Hopefully they'd be gone soon and she could give this little snot what he deserved . . . if she could hold her temper to that point.

She flicked her eyes back to Greedo as he continued, leaning her head back a bit, sighing through her lips in exasperation as he continued, _"Jabba's put a price on your head so large every bounty hunter in the galaxy will be looking for you. . ."_ Hana smirked and tilted her head to the side, _"Nice to know I'm that important to him."_ She glanced down as Greedo continued, moving the fingertips of her right hand down her side towards her blaster holder, then glanced up as she flicked the strap on the weapon holder loose and wrapped her hand around the familiar handle. It felt at home in her palm like nothing else. She took another sip of liquid courage and breathed gently as he continued on as if not hearing her. Greedo chuckled, _"Luckily I found you first."_ Hana smirked, _"Yeah, and now you can tell Jabba I HAVE THE MONEY. . ."_ Greedo sneered, _"If you give it to me I might forget I found you."_ Hana sneered right back, _"Why, so every other bounty hunter will be chasing my ass across the galaxy? No thanks. So many boneheaded males chasing me doesn't appeal to me nearly as much as it might to you. Besides, I DON'T have the money with me, just tell Jabba. . ."_ Greedo jerked the gun at her again, his rage at her implication regarding his sexual nature causing him not to notice her pulling her blaster out slowly from her side. She glanced down, blinking at it while holding it firm against her pants leg as he snarled, _"Jabba's through with you and your excuses! He has no time for smuggling bitches who'd be better on their backs than piloting a ship. After all what kind of smuggler drops their shipment at the first sign of an Imperial cruiser?"_ he sneered, _"You'd be better off using your mouth around a man's cock than using your mind to deliver cargo."_

She glowered at him, fury rising from the pit of her stomach, a great fire threatening to pour out from her, and growled as she leaned forward slightly, fury radiating from her, a warning to smarter beings, _"I'd bite off a man's cock sooner than suck on it. Besides, even I get boarded sometimes. You think I had a fucking choice?!"_ she spat the last, her finger reaching out and resting on the trigger, twitching slightly in her anger, her head tilting down as her face screwed up in fury at the creature before her. She wanted no more in that moment than to kill him. . . but she held herself back, held herself tight on that leash. . .Greedo, if he saw even noticed it, ignored her escalation of emotion and continued on, crossing even further over the line drawn in the sand. . . _"You can tell that to Jabba when you see him. He may only take your ship."_ She glowered at him all the more, _"The Falcon's my LIVELIHOOD. No way in hell am I giving it to that slug." "A livelihood meant for a male, perhaps,"_ Greedo hissed, _"Why do you think you do such poor business? A male's place is to captain ships. A female's place is to warm his bed. Perhaps Jabba can teach you that and give you a NEW LIVELIHOOD on his barge. Perhaps I can be the first to utilize you properly in exchange for bringing you to him."_

Hana held no mercy in her eyes as she leaned forward even closer, so her hot breath hit the pathetic alien right in the face, _"Over my dead body, snotbrain."_ Greedo leaned forward, and reached for his own trigger, just as she aimed hers correctly with the blaster pointed out from just inside the crook of her bent leg. _"That's the idea. I've been looking forward to this for a long time, Solo,"_ he slurred as she reached the other hand over to grip the bottom lip of the tabletop tightly. _"Yes, I bet you have,"_ she snarled, flipping the table with one hand and firing her gun with the other twice in close repetition, doing a quick jerk with that hand in order to switch aim in between the two planned shots. Greedo had no time to process what was happening as first one shot went through his crotch and the second through his head, falling forward and collapsing onto the floor, his bleeding head lying on her boot. She snarled, putting her other foot down on the ground and kicking him away, " _Filthy alien scum."_ She rose up, and at that moment realized that the band had stopped playing and all bar patrons including the storm troopers were looking at her. She snarled at the aliens, all of them, _"What the fuck are you lot looking at?"_ she said, still holding the blaster up towards them all, eyes fiery embers as they gazed at all around accusingly, _"Anyone else want my blaster up your crotch? If so I'll GLADLY service all of you bastards!"_

After a moment of awkward silence, the aliens turned back to their conversations and the band started back up. She rolled her eyes and jammed her blaster into her holster again, jerking her vest tighter around her upon noticing her chest markings were showing yet again. Growling, she marched towards the hallway Ben and Luke had gone through before, glancing at the bar keep as he moved around the bar to get up the body, mop and bucket in hand in order to attempt to get up anything that might have spilled. _"Sorry about the mess,"_ she muttered, turning away from him, sliding a hand into her currency pouch and pulling out some credits before tossing them on the dead bounty hunter as she made her way out of the cantina and down the hallway towards the docking bays.

As she walked, she jammed her hands in her pockets and sighed, tense shoulders relaxing slightly as she hung her head, hair falling forward to veil her face. As a voice she tried so often to push from her mind came back to her: _"No, there's no need for violence! No need!"_ She grit her teeth. They were naïve words that held little truth and were of no use to the female smuggler in the harsh world she resided in, but words from her father in his last moments nonetheless. And so she couldn't help but dwell on them and the memory they triggered.

 _After what seemed like endless footsteps and shouts, the door was forced open and Hana gazed up in fear at the two males standing before her. One man wore a dirty beige shirt with a brown fringed vest over it. His long black hair was oily and smeared with grease and grime, as was his mustache. His eyes were the color of glass and only held apathy and promised cruelty. His skin held a light blue tinge. He had a large blaster strapped to his side. His partner had no hair, and wore a black jacket with pockets and gray pants, a large ugly scar running down the side of his face and under the black patch over his right eye, with a large metal staff strapped to his back. His visible eye was dark as space, and just as void of emotion. His skin paler than any color of white she'd ever seen._

 _The two exchanged a look that Hana didn't understand before grabbing her and hauling her out of the closet and down a hallway. She began to jerk, shrieking, begging to know where her father was. When led to the door leading from their ship onto the other ship currently connected to theirs, she saw him. Space pirates of varying looks, species, and sizes surrounded her father with weapons focused on the male humanoid who had been beaten to the point of having bloody sides, busted up knees, a split lip, and a face so swollen you could barely see his face. If she hadn't spent so much of her life with him, she wouldn't have been able to even recognize him._

 _Hana cried out and rushed forward, or at least tried to. The males on either side of her gripped her firmly, jerking her back. The bald one leaned down, sneering in her ear, "Be a good little girl now and don't squirm. Let your daddy say something to you in his final moments." She turned to him, tears forming in her eyes as his stale breath hit her face as he smirked, revealing metallic fangs. She gulped and licked her lips, sucking them in to be between her teeth to show she'd comply. He smirked, and patted her cheek roughly, making her whimper as he leaned back up and loosened his grip. Mind swimming in confusion and panic, she shuddered, before slamming into his waist as hard as she could, trying with all of her might to shove him away with her tiny hands and began to run to her father. She had no idea what she could do to save him, but she felt she had to try._

 _The pirate roared in anger, grabbing her by her arm and jerking it back painfully to the point of the shoulder popping out of its socket. She let loose a long pain-filled cry at the pain as the man cursed and the harsh edge of his staff slammed into the back of her head, making her see stars and fall to her knees as blood rushed from her head wound and trickled down her back as darkness rushed up to meet her. She slammed against the metal floor in a daze, groaning, her vision coming in and out of focus as she saw the shadow of her father begging them to leave her be. "No, there's no need for violence! No need!" moments before a firing blast was sounded and she saw his shadow fall as well. She cried a mournful cry as one of the males behind her, the one with the long hair due to the sound of his voice being so different from the one of the bald man, muttered about the other hurting their goods before they had a chance to put them on the market._

Hana sighed. That had been the beginning of the end for her believing the universe to be a kind place, and had been the beginning in her knowledge of the truth: the Force wasn't real, good didn't come to those who served the Force, and the only thing you could count on when it mattered was cruelty. She lifted her head at that moment and staggered to a stop and stared at the bounty hunter in his dark green armor standing before her. His cape and armor were tattered, but the "Y" shaped black slits of his helmet shone even in the low dusty light of the hallway, just as the blaster in his gloved hands did as he held it pointed right at her. She frowned hard at him and took a step back, hand moving to her blaster, five feet between the two of them. _"You have no time to grab it and you know it,"_ the hunter said, his voice scratchy through the helmet's mouthpiece and speaker. He reached up with one gloved hand and hooked the thumb under the front lip of his helmet, lifting it off and shaking out his long black hair from its confines, frowning at her with cold black eyes, a jagged scar down the side of his face, the sides of the crevice tugging at the tanned skin in an ugly burned way. Hana grit her teeth as he frowned at her, "Catching the 'Great Captain Han Solo' off guard. Now that's quite a feat." Hana heaved a sigh, _"Hello Boba,"_ she said shakily with a small, shaky smile full of nervous energy as she glanced at the male's gun pointing right at her head, _"It's been a while."_ Stalling Greedo to the point of grabbing her blaster pistol was an easy task. Stalling Boba would without a doubt be a greater feat.


End file.
